Twisted
by MsStardust
Summary: Bellamort, with a highly canon influence; sorry, but I don't think any two-sided fluff will be the goings-on!  Takes place mainly at the Manor, review if there's a certain character you'd love to see some more of.
1. Twisted

**((A/N: I'm posting a lot lately, I suppose. I promise I'll start posting some other non-Potter stuff soon, or at least some non-manor writings… YOU KNOW THAT'S HARD FOR ME. But I'll do it. For you. **_**Just **_**for you. **_**Spe-cif-ic-al-ly**_**. ;o))**

The meeting ended with Lucius asking Bellatrix what had happened to her face. There was a red mark, suspiciously shaped like the back of a long-fingered hand, across her cheek. Bellatrix flushed, and Lucius opened his mouth as if to speak, but he didn't say anything. He wasn't looking at Bellatrix anymore. Voldemort gave the blonde a long look. "Lucius, although I'm sure we are all /very/ interested in what Bella does in her spare time, what is the importance of the matter?" his words dripped sarcasm, and a few Death Eaters laughed at the Malfoy. He said nothing. There was a silence in which Bellatrix would usually be giggling, if she weren't still dealing with shame. "...Well. Unless this has anything to do with killing the Potter boy," (a few more laughs), "I suggest we end the meeting."

Lucius was the first to leave. Bellatrix was the only one left in the room, besides Voldemort. His red eyes hid his displeasure. "Bellatrix." A piece of curly hair fell in her face, and she jumped. Recognition and slight fear welled in her eyes. The pouty lips, the dark eyes, and the messy hair were rather alluring... The thought was shaken from his mind.

Bellatrix stood, only to kneel again by her master's feet. She kissed them carefully. "Bella, why have you not covered your face? I trust you didn't forget." She flinched, but said nothing. To answer that she had, in fact, forgotten, would not be wise. The slap was not too unusual, or cruel, in her mind; she had been overly forward a night Rodolphus and her had cracked open a bottle or four of champagne. Of course, she got tired of listening to her husband, and left for something she actually wanted to do. It wasn't acceptable to slur out a stream of vaguely suggestive-sounding words at your master from outside the door.

Voldemort studied her silent body calmly. She didn't have the manly, unwilling kisses of his other servants. Hers were more plush, warmer. "Bellatrix. Stand up." The instant she was upright, Voldemort threw her down again. The thud of her body toppling off her heels and hitting the hard floor made him laugh harshly. "You should really keep a reminder scroll, Bella." The pet name was made mocking with a sneer. Her crumpled body was exciting to stand over. Power surged through him. Power and... Something else. The brief déjà vu feeling was ignored. "Get up." He kicked her side gleefully, and she gasped

lightly. The old, unrecognized feeling tingled again, and he was infuriated that he couldn't place it. "_Get up_." the red growling in his voice forced her to rise. Fury was boiling inside him, and he bared his teeth. Fear flashed over Bella's now-bleeding face.

In a sudden jerking movement, the Dark Lord had grabbed Bella's throat and drawn her in. The surprise that colored her cheeks lightly was enjoyable. The fact frustrated him. Not loosening his hold on her neck, Voldemort crashed his rough lips against Mrs. Lestrange's soft ones, and within instants she responded. Her mouth moved almost seamlessly against his, the restraint of his choking hold keeping the kiss light and with him in a position to control her; In such a situation as this, when the only purpose was to satisfy him, she was not to be trusted. Lust had been the emotion, and his fury had done nothing but multiply its power. It was another powerful emotion, at least, nothing that made him weak.

Still, he wondered...

His right hand slid from his servant's windpipe, his left pushed her body into the wall. It was true, the kiss was... Deeper, without her being held back. She kissed like an animal. Besides, she was the one stuck to a wall. He could leave if he wanted to.

A guttural growl rumbled in Voldemort's throat. Bellatrix sighed against his lips, fingers dancing over her Lord's neck and ears. Although they were together, closer than they ever had been, exactly what she had dreamed of for years, the longing in her heart persisted... It grew stronger. There was something else that had awakened, a more animalistic need; hunger was raging in her blood. She wanted more. The Dark Lord felt her bite at his lips, the tightened grip and pull closer to her soft body. With imperceptible difficulty, his pale fingers loosened from her waist. His lips broke into a smile against her fervent kisses, and she pulled back slowly, confused. The hurt was shining in her dark eyes. Voldemort reveled in the pained beauty."Now, Bellatrix." Soft and teasing. Bella whimpered quietly. "Don't be greedy." The emphasis on the last word made her eyes water. She bit the inside of her lip. Why did he have to do this to her? Was it not obvious how much she needed him?

Her thoughts were cut off by a cold finger tracing over her neck. If she had been eating, she would have choked-luckily, she wasn't, but she had been breathing.

Lord Voldemort watched as his own finger ran over the unmoving skin. He could tell she'd stopped breathing, and enjoyed the power he had over her immensely. She was his. His toy, his servant. His most faithful, certainly. Nothing more.

She was turning blue from lack of breath, but dared not move. He let his fingers travel to the back edge of her dress, watching her severely repressed shudder. He leaned to her ear. "You can move now, Bella."

The whisper's effect was instantaneous. Bellatrix's hands wandered Voldemort's robes and dug in quickly as if she had been terrified of losing him, her eyes shut, and she pulled him to her to kiss his neck with a reawakened passion. The nips did not go away. Her tongue flicked over him lightly, and the long-fingered hands moved down, fingernails leaving a ragged trail in the fabric that intensified at her corset. Her shiver was not repressed this time, and as he kissed her neck with meaningful roughness, she slipped her hands under his robes. Her nails dug into his back, neck exposed as much as possible to him. It had always been a soft spot. He knew that. She moaned quietly, the temptation becoming too much with his increasing tugs and squeezes, and tore through his cloak. The night began.

...in the sense that it was 9 o'clock, of course. The Dark Lord had caught himself again. Bella was on his floor, petrified in a heap, after the fifth attempt to try and sneak back into his bed. Did she think him stupid? Red eyes wandered her form, and he scoffed. Pathetic. Bending down from where he stood, Voldemort whispered into her ear. "Regretting it now, are we, Bella? What will dear Roddy say?" A silence and a satisfied, vicious smile later, he was gone. It was time for a meeting, and she wouldn't be there... Bellatrix was thankful she was petrified. The Dark Lord was merciful, for tears would have been soaking her dress with weakness had she been able to cry them.

**((A/N: Well, another chapter? No? Shallll I continue?~)) **


	2. Regret

**((A/N: Wow, the reviews made me so happy E I'm glad you liked it! I'll keep it up as much as I can~))**

The meeting went well. There was no incessant laughter, no overemotional eyes, no one shooting curses to those who spoke over the Dark Lord save for himself. Of course, anything going without a hitch was impossible with this team, the fools, and this time it was Rodolphus who spoiled any perfection. He was rather far down the table, farther away than his wife would be, as Voldemort could tell how he feared his Lord would get angry. Bellatrix, although foolish, at least was not afraid to respect her master.

"My Lord."

The Death Eater's head bowed. A bony hand gestured to continue. Rodolphus cleared his throat. "My Lord, are there any separate missions going on? At... At the moment?" The wariness coloring his voice was good to hear. The man was not a complete idiot. "Rodolphus, do you happen to be inquiring of your wife?" The light brown eyes widened, and fear flickered over his face. Nagini hissed. "_Ah... He assumes the worst of me, doesn't he, Nagini."_ The parse tongue seemed to further horrify Rodolphus. Narcissa was looking from the empty chair to Rodolphus to the head of the table, worry making her shift. The others looked mildly confused, surprised, or relieved. Voldemort studied their faces. No one met his gaze.

"The meeting is over."

His sentence had the desired effect. Mr. Lestrange let out a cry similar to a strangled bird, and Lucius, grumbling, helped his wife up. His grudging reassurances seemed enough for her, and they left only slightly behind the crowd. Rodolphus, not wanting to be last out, rose to disapparate. "Rodolphus." The man turned slowly, and bowed with hesitation. "Your wife has been reckless. Please attempt to control her." Although the plea was clearly a command, Rodolphus bowed with true emotion. The relief that flooded his eyes was tinged with confusion. "Thank you, my lord." The questions in his face did not flow from his mouth. Voldemort nodded in acknowledgement. "She would be wise to attend the next meeting. I suggest you tend to her well." With a crack, he disapparated. The room was just as it had been. Bellatrix had not moved. He studied her for a full minute before muttering a spell. "_Rennervate_."

The petrifying spell lifted. Bellatrix could feel her muscles crying for movement, and yet she only blinked. Her eyes were prickling, and it was taking effort not to show any weakness. Not that she looked strong, crumpled on the ground. His voice, cold and silky, did not help her efforts. "Bella. Your husband is waiting." His foot moved towards her, and in an instant, she disapparated. A lock of hair and the heel of her shoe stayed behind. Her haste was infuriating.

Rodolphus sat up quickly, alerted by a clunky thud and heavy panting. That was either a large, wooden, dying dog or his wife. He guessed the latter. "...Bella?" His legs lifted over the side of the bed, and he dropped the book he had been reading neatly into the sheets. Sure enough, upon standing, he could see her, looking like she had just been attacked by a herd of wild goats. "Bella, are you alright?"

Bellatrix turned to look up at his eyes. They were warm, comforting and always there. So unlike her master's, but... Boring. The comforting fuzz had done its job, fixing a few emotional gaps, and now she didn't need it. Gathering up her strength, Bellatrix lifted her torso. Apparently she wavered, as in an instant warm hands were below her shoulders and her feet tapped onto the floor. He was looking into her face, clearly checking for anything wrong, when she looked up. Eventually he caught her gaze.

It was pained, slightly indignant, and a bit bruised. "Bella..." His was concerned, affectionate, healthy... "My shoe." Rodolphus glanced down. Her heel was missing. "Bella," (she wished he would stop calling her that,) "may I be so bold as to ask where you sustained these horrible injuries?" His footsteps, slow with her weight, carried her over the wooden floor and to the black-sheeted bed. She didn't reply. His sarcasm was largely unappreciated. With a slight sigh at the look on her face, Mr. Lestrange tucked his wife in and left for some soup. _'Tend to her.' Easy, I thought. Sure, I thought. This'll be a nice bonding time. But no, she's going to clam up, for once, and keep it to herself. _

Bellatrix sighed. Why did he have to be so… _Rodolphus_-like? She wasn't weak, or helpless, or… or anything else like that! And this book he was reading, this non-fiction factual gillyblabber. Worthless. Her eyes scanned over a page, seeing nothing of interest, and let the book fall to the floor. Sometimes, lies were easier to take than the truth. Roddy would learn that, some day.

The room was cold. A draft made the curtains wave, and Bellatrix shivered. Without a second thought, she charmed the book, and its pages caught on fire to provide some heat. /Well. Might as well see what we can fix before it gets worse./ The smoldering book remains floating to her right, she sat herself up to check out her arms first. There were small reddish spots on her fingertips, but that seemed to be all… They would fade on their own. A large bruise on her side was purpling, but no one would see that unless Rodolphus did, in which case she could make up a story. He might not believe her, but she knew he wasn't one to challenge. Ankles were swollen and red. A flick of her wand fixed that. A bruised lip. No one would notice, and it did hold a rather fond memory. There was a reddish mark on her neck that could be anything, but wasn't dark enough to defy concealing powder. She sighed. Some sick part of her didn't want the marks to be healed; they were proof. She adored them, even though they might hurt a bit. Anything the Dark Lord did was not to be undone, and so, unless he gave the command, she would simply cover for him, for herself. So long as he wasn't able to give the command, or she didn't hear it, there was no way she could obey, right?

With the final devious thought, the ashes of book fell to the floor, her eyelids fluttered shut, and Bellatrix drifted off to much-needed sleep.

When Rodolphus returned with a lit wand and a bowl of steaming broth, his foot crunched on a black pile of ash. Upon further inspection, the pile appeared to be burnt paper and leather. His book. Bellatrix. Of course she did. Leaving the book for later thoughts, he made his way carefully to the dresser and set the bowl down there. A quick spell made sure it would stay warm through the night. Silently, the wizard crept to his own side of the bed, gently pulling the sheets over his and her shoulders. "_Nox_." It was barely a whisper.

He felt Bellatrix shift closer him, and that was enough.

**((A/N: -injects you with fluffy warmness-))**


	3. Silence

Bella sighed. It was hard, being a death eater, and no one cared... Her dark irises wandered over everyone in the room, flicking lightly past the ones she didn't care about. Lucius, looking dignifiedly expectant (bored?), Cissy, seemingly thoughtful, her chin resting in her palm, and Draco and Roddy, both staring into space with a blank look that suggested gastrointestinal pain. Both heart and eyes skipped over the empty seat at the head of the table.

She sighed again, louder. The damn table was too long. Everyone was spread out, waiting for dinner, looking various degrees of tired. The week _had_ been brutal… Firstly, the missions were terrible and full of pain, with too many skirmishes and not enough wins. If her few bruises had been seen, they'd were taken as smaller battle tolls compared to the cuts that would surely scar, even if healed with magic. Besides that, Voldemort was seen rarely, and yet Bellatrix seemed to be in the list for every task, particularly the difficult ones. Was he punishing her? _For what?_ Another long sigh, more irritating than the last, made the few table occupants turn their heads. "Bellatrix, would you quit it? We get the point. You're depressed. Boo-hoo, the Dark Lord isn't here!" Lucius's face reddened, his chair scooting a bit with him rising to his feet. "Do you think we want this? Do you really lack the small amount of brainpower to figure out how horrible this is ta-" "Lucius! Calm yourself, Lucius, it's alright... We're alright." Narcissa was panting. Her words seemed those spoken by a worn woman, half breath and half worry. Bellatrix reminded herself to hold her chin up. The dark eyes avoided looking at anything but the wall. A portrait snored, and the awkward air in the room was thick enough to cut with a knife. Deciding she had sighed enough, and not looking to push the rigid blonde off the edge, Bella shifted. "Narcissa, where is that stupid elf? Or is the food not coming?"

Narcissa made a face that conveyed the message "Really? Really.", and the words following connected with it perfectly. "Well it would be faster, Bellatrix, but considering you _killed_ our last elf, we don't have much room for complaint, now do we?" The shocked, slightly embarrassed look on her wild-haired sisters face was enough payment (and cause for a little regret). After a minute of staring, Narcissa sunk her head to her hands. "I'm sorry for snapping, Bella. I'm a little on edge right now. We all are." Unconsciously, everyone's shoulders slumped a bit. Rodolphus rubbed his eyes, exhaled. There was a long, weary silence.

It was another three weeks before Voldemort returned to Malfoy Manor, and in these weeks of absence he somehow maintained absolute control. Messages were sent with orders. Reports of failed missions were sent by messengers that never returned, and you learned to keep away from pity or getting to know the newcomers. At one point, a new recruit with blond hair was sent, young, cheerful, and oblivious. The night later, Bellatrix was passing Narcissa's room on the way to her own. She paused, ears strained, as the smallest, weakest sound wavered through the door. It was undoubtedly her sister weeping. Bella stepped closer to the wood, her ear now lightly against it. Something made her chest tighten, her silent breathing constrict, when the tearful breaths echoed. An unintentional, choked noise came from the room. Bellatrix swallowed painfully and moved away from the door a bit, tears of her own welling up in her eyes. _Oh stop it, Bellatrix, you're so weak. If anyone were to see you_- A loud and strangled sob interrupted her thoughts, and overcome with sudden nausea, Bellatrix fled to protect her sisters' dwindling dignity.


	4. Seams

((AN: I AM SO. SORRY. Just augh. And this isn't even a completed chapter, neither was the last one, I'm having the most painful writers block I feel so bad but I feel even worse upoloading terribly tiny chapters... This chapter went wrong and it made me cringe at myself and I don't know where it is even going anymore, which made me think maybe that's a good thing? Wweh wweh. Sorry for being so horrible. /3 This isn't a finished chapter, unless I finish the next one and it's long enough to make up for it...))

Seams

He was back, and her heart was rushing. Even though it was difficult to forget how her sister had reacted to his more recent antics, Bellatrix pushed all the thoughts bitterly to the back of her mind. Clean slate, for him. She would never stop forgiving him, but hurting Cissy was a boundary. Even if Cissa _was _a little overreactive. Hey, he wasn't trying, and clearly he didn't think of the consequences of his actions on a certain servant in all his fuss. The Dark Lord was perfect.

"Bellatrix."

The high, cold voice broke into her thoughts like a curse shattering glass, and she gasped. Her eyes deliberately stared into his, her face burning at the derogatory laughs from her 'fellow' Death Eaters. "Yes, master?" He was fantastic.

Before she could drift off into dreamland and hear her task, a hand broke her thoughts and Occulmency walls. Her smoldering, passionate stare had been mistaken for one of pain or fear, apparently, by her husband, and he had placed a 'comforting' hand to her thigh. Without hearing her delayed order, Bella whipped around to face him, hair flying. The blazing anger in her eyes was enough to warrant his blasphemed expression and the removal of his hand.

Voldemort cleared his throat.

Husband and wife gave a start. There was no laughter this time, only uncomfortable silence. _Damn. _If what Bella had been feeling before was her face _burning_, she was sure it was now rolling with an intense embarrassed fire. No one spoke.

"I trust you two will sort this out later."

Bellatrix shifted in her seat. Her cheeks were still searing. "If we can move on." He looked to Bellatrix with a grim stare. Asking her permission was nothing but more public humiliation. When she failed to respond, Rodolphus gave an apologetic bow, and it was accepted with a grimace. "I was looking for a progress report on the Ministry infiltration. Yaxely has done his job well." Rodolphus opened his mouth to speak and was promptly interrupted by his wife.

"The mission went well, my lord. We have Death Eaters stationed in many sections of the Ministry. Mister and Missus Aurnet have been captured and replaced without notice. By the time we run out of polyjuice, we'll have taken control." Although her suddenly proud stance left most people baffled and stunned, the head of the table merely nodded slowly and turned to the rest of the occupants as if nothing had happened. "Very good. And you, Lucius?"

Of course the news was good. Hell, it was better than that. The overtaking was going splendid. And Bellatrix had done her part and more.

That fact was extremely irritating.

If she would just step down for _once, _let him feel angry and have no remorse. While he was gone, he could pretend he had reason to hate her at least, but now… Oh, Lucius had finished speaking.

"Thank you for paying such acute attention." He didn't need to turn to know Bella was looking like a kicked puppy. Urgh. Rodolphus was clueless. With a satisfied sweep of the table, Voldemort ended the meeting. Well, at least business was going better than expected. He didn't need that damn woman to continue what was already in place.

The idea of a few weeks without Bellatrix was just beginning to send a calming wave through his body when he was taken from his thoughts by a voice.

"My Lord!"

Oh, gods. _I should have disapparated sooner._


	5. temporary

((A/N: Eep! Okay so I realize I haven't updated for a while again, but I need help! If you want to read more of this story however you want it to be, please, vote on the poll on my profile. I'd be so glad to know what you guys want, especially because of the little dilemma I put myself in, hehe. I felt awful setting off the people with this on alerts' alert just to ask you to vote, so I did write a little ficlet for you guys, and I hope it makes enough sense to read properly lD Enjoy!))

The world was a mess of colors that kept moving around her eyes.

The dark browns and blacks of the entrance room, and that flash of white meant the door was open. Although things would look better if she slowed down, or steadied herself, she wasn't the kind of person to do either of those things unless she had a reason.

Blinking a few times, the living room came into better focus, and she made out her favorite chair, cushy and more like a very small, tall-backed sofa than a chair. But, among the fuzzy pea-soup-green was something else. Some_one_ else. Her eyes widened.

Voldemort sat, eyes closed, an arm on either armrest of the chair. It was the best one in the room, most definitely, even if it was a sort of diluted green. Green was best in full, like the old Slytherin house colors, or those apples they had so many of. He breathed out, relaxed. And then a cluttering noise came from the room next, the one connected with the door that led outside... His eyes opened slightly. The smell of Bella's favorite perfume was diluted with the tinge of booze and the sharpness that came from other people's cologne. She'd been out. His fingers twitched.

She was an absolute mess, hair everywhere and dark makeup smeared around her eyes, with the distinct lost look of a woman who has drunk herself senseless. He watched as she stumbled in, looked around and blearily began to recognize that he was there. The look of nervous surprise, something he sees often, was muddled by a lack of inhibitions and her eyebrows tilted slightly back. ...The look in her eyes. What was it? Voldemort squinted, and she seemed to fully recognize him, but instead of the usual bow she spoke unbidden.

"My lord." Although slurred, there was a clear quality to her voice, as if it had gone through a fan and come out airier than intended. She hiccupped. "...Bellatrix, what are you doing here?" It was his practically his house, and although she did sleep upstairs to get away from things sometimes, most of his servants preferred to steer clear of the rooms that he frequented. She stepped forward, an expression on her face now that he couldn't fully understand, and tripped over her high heels a few times, eventually shaking one off and suddenly within feet of him. With a shuddering sigh, she pitched herself sideways, and seemed to soften.

The Dark Lord widened his crimson eyes and pushed back in his chair, instinctively attempting to escape the incoming body as it crumpled into his chest and arms. He stared down at the girl, her hair hiding much of her face, and froze. His arms were out to the side of the chair, and his eyes were stuck looking at her. He was... Confused. Unsure. Not liking these emotions, he kicked up his leg a bit in an attempt to jostle her off, but the result wasn't what he had expected; instead of falling off, she used the knee to slide back and snuggled deeper into the chair, lodging herself like an oversized humming cat onto his lap. "M'lord..." She was practically purring. He resisted the urge to pet her, and instead glanced around for his wand. ...Ah. It's in the cushion. Faaantastic. With no way to magic his way out of things, and Bella with her wand alarmingly in hand, he was for once on the weaker side of a problem.

She bit his leg.


End file.
